


In the Hands of the Enemy

by Rainbow_Trout



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Gen, Kidnapped, Whump, Whumptober 2020, hurt comfort, hurt!Casey, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Trout/pseuds/Rainbow_Trout
Summary: Day Two of Whumptober - Kidnapped, and possibly 'choose who dies'.
Relationships: Matthew Casey & Kelly Severide
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953733
Comments: 18
Kudos: 46
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Race Against Time

**Author's Note:**

> Possible trigger warnings for him being tied up and kidnapped :)

Casey groaned as he came too, wincing at the relentless pounding in his head. The world around him was dark – no, dingy – and he blinked tiredly as he stared up at the ceiling. Whatever had hit him had been hard, and he didn’t need his hand to feel the throbbing lump on the back of his head.

Speaking of hands.

The young Truck Captain bit back a curse as he felt the rope digging into his flesh, restraining his every move. The rope was rough, thick, and he knew that he was in trouble. And despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to sleep, to escape the pain in his head and nausea in his gut, he knew that he had to move.

Resisting the urge to groan again – because who knew that he was here? Would groaning alert someone that he was awake? Or were they already watching him? In fact, who was _they_? – Casey shifted, aiming to roll onto his side. But even the slight effort proved to be too much, and stars burst in front of his eyes as his vision swam. Damn. They had hit him _really_ hard, and he was confident that he had a concussion.

No time to mope, though. If he wanted to escape, he had to keep moving.

Bracing himself, he took a few deep breaths before trying again, this time managing to build up enough momentum to roll to his side, entire body shaking as he flopped against the dirty ground. He squeezed his eyes shut as his efforts rewarded him with a wave of nausea, but wasn’t able to hold it back as bile flooded his mouth.

Casey felt his body curl into itself as he started heaving, only bitter, acidic bile coming up. It burnt his throat worse than the worst flu he’d ever had, and he couldn’t prevent tears of effort trailing down his cheeks. He continued to heave, the nausea being unrelenting, and the pain only grew as they merged into dry heaves. Either he’d been sick earlier, or he’d been here for a lot longer than he’d realised.

Wherever _here_ was.

Doing his best to stifle a sob, Matt swallowed, biting his lip in an effort to ground himself. As if the added pain from the vomiting wasn’t enough, he was now hopelessly dizzy, and he needed a moment to come back to his senses.

“Ah, he’s awake.”

 _That_ worked, and Casey felt his heart plunge at the voice. Dammit. Why couldn’t he have been quiet? He’d had one goal, and he couldn’t even do _that._

“No. Don’t greet me. That’s okay. It’s not like your life is in my hands or anything…”

If he wasn’t already barely gripping to consciousness, he might have been able to place that voice. After all, it _was_ familiar… but thinking made his head hurt and he needed to focus his energy on _not dying._

“You don’t remember me, do you? You should.”

Casey blinked, and the next thing he knew, the man was gripping his hair, lifting him up. He scrambled desperately, trying not to show his pain and fear as he tried to get his knees beneath him. He could barely manage it, though. And his body sagged as he almost lost the fight with consciousness.

Still, though. He managed. And he fought through the dizziness in his effort to look up at his captor, tightening his jaw further and hoping that his gaze held his contempt.

Unfortunately, that just seemed to delight the man, and his eyes lit up as he surveyed Casey’s shaking frame, “They said you were a stubborn one… they said you could take it.”

Before Casey could process his movement, the man had gripped his hair again, tugging his head back until it was painful and getting into his face. The pain was once again wracking Casey’s body, and he did all he could to focus on the man’s voice as his vision started dipping in and out.

“But not stubborn enough to save my brother.”

* * *

Kelly could barely contain his anxiety as the houses sped by, every part of his instinct telling him that they had to hurry. Not that they _weren’t_ hurrying, of course – they were, sirens blaring and tearing down streets almost at a dangerous speed – but he just wished that they could move faster. Nothing would feel calm again until Casey was safe, and he knew that they needed to move fast.

He hadn’t realised that Casey was missing until the early hours of that morning, after the blonde had failed to show up to their shared apartment. They always made sure that they knew where each other was, so it struck Kelly as odd when Casey didn’t show up an hour after Molly’s closed. He’d texted his friend first, hoping that Casey would tell him he’d gone home with a girl, but after pacing anxiously for ten minutes, he’d anxiously called Herrmann.

At that point, he’d still expected this to be nothing, and had fully expected Herrmann to rib him about being overly concerned about Casey. But the bar owner had denied Casey meeting anyone, and informed him that he’d left the bar two hours before closing.

Now three hours ago.

Not good.

He’d tried ringing Casey again, but the call went direct to voice mail. By now, he was starting to properly worry, and hadn’t hesitated to call the PD.

From there, things had moved quickly. Casey’s truck was still parked at Molly’s, which confirmed Severide’s fears; that the blonde hadn’t made it far. No one at the bar that night had seen anything suspicious, but they all knew that didn’t mean that nothing had happened. Chicago could be scary, after all, and it wasn’t like Casey was without enemies.

PD didn’t take long to get themselves sorted, searching the area for Casey, just in case he was still nearby. That had made Kelly sick, initially, until he realised that if Casey wasn’t around, he was somewhere else.

And they had no idea where.

But knowing the 21st wasn’t without its advantages, because they had the best detectives working the case. And say what you will about Voight, he got the work done. He knew the exact questions to ask, and he had an extensive knowledge of the criminals in Chicago, which was likely how they were able to identify their main suspect so quickly.

Troy Muarry was one of the first names to come up, and it suddenly, it clicked. A week prior, they’d responded to a house fire, and had lost a victim. It was always sad, but it happened. The issue here was; it was Ralph Muarry, Troy’s brother. They hadn’t met Troy at the scene, of course, nor had they heard hide nor hair from him since, but it made sense.

Troy was criminally involved, and he valued his family. He would likely stop at nothing to hurt the man he deemed responsible. And since Casey was Captain; that was him.

Which was terrifying.

They’d already been to one of Troy’s residences, and had failed to find him. Now, they were on their way to another.

* * *

“Not so tough now, are you, _Captain?”_

Casey did all he could to not flinch at the tone, still determined not to give the man what he wanted. But it was bloody tough, because the man had decided to use him as his punching bag.

“Not so tough without all your men doing all your dirty work! Following your every order! Are you?! In fact, some would say you’re a scared little boy…”

A strong fist connected with his jaw, knocking him right back. Black spots appeared in front of his vision, and his head throbbed. He felt as though he was falling, and he quickly righted himself. But he still felt as though he was floating, and he knew that it was due to the head injury he no doubt had.

This man was making his life hell.

_But, at least he had a life._

In his altered state, Casey’s own thoughts made him chuckle, smirk plastered across his face. He knew that he must be out of it, because death wasn’t a joking matter, but he still didn’t process the ramifications of his laughter until he heard a frustrated scream, bordering on hysterical.

“What are you laughing at, _Captain_? What are you laughing at? You think something’s funny? You think my brother’s death is funny?”

His shouts had sent Casey’s mind reeling, the blond unable to understand what he’d done, or how the man had made those connections. He didn’t _think_ that he’d said anything about his brother, unless he was missing chunks of time? Was he missing chunks of time? Because that would be concerning.

Or, was the man just mad? That also seemed to be a distinct possibility.

He must have faded out again, because the next thing he knew, his hair was once again being gripped, and a knife was being forced to his throat, “If you think death is so funny, how about you experience it? I’ll kill you, firefighter! I will!”

But whether the man wasn’t able to follow through, or whether he just wasn’t finished yet, Casey would never know, because the next thing he knew he was being shoved into the ground.

“Or, maybe I can just bring you back to your precious fifty-one. Let you choose who I kill. Let you know what it’s like to loose someone.”

* * *

Severide let out a scream of frustration as PD filed out of the building, shaking their heads and moving back to the cars. He’d hoped that this was where Casey was, he’d hoped beyond everything else, because he was getting terrified that he wouldn’t see his friend again.

He paced back over to the car, leaning against it. But he knew that this wasn’t the time to break down. Casey was relying on him, and he couldn’t let him down now.

“Kelly! Come here and look at this.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he glanced over to where Voight was standing over an iPad. He all but ran over, adrenaline once again pumping.

“We got a match on these plates… heading West on West Armitage Avenue… off Winchester Avenue. Near Molly’s… can you think of anywhere it would be going? Can’t say for sure if Casey was in the car, and we’re still trying to trace it… but any head start would be good, at this point.”

Kelly glanced at the device, mapping it out in his head. Casey _had to be_ somewhere of significance. He knew that. But where was significant in that –

Then, it hit him. And he felt like an idiot that he hadn’t thought of it before. He was disgusted in himself, because right now, it was so blaringly obvious that he could slap himself, “The fire we responded too… it was just off Fullerton… he has to be there. There was a basement… he has to be there!”

There was a lull, than Voight was nodding, PD already starting to scramble around him, “Let’s go!”

* * *

Once again, Casey was thrown to the ground, his mouth filling with soot. He didn’t know how much more his body could take, and maybe unconsciousness would be a blessing. As it was, he could feel his body almost unwillingly melt into the cold hard ground.

But he still didn’t understand something. If the man was so determined to kill him… then _why_ hadn’t he? He’d had ample opportunity, and the morbid part of Casey’s mind knew that it wouldn’t take an awful lot. He was weak as it was, so unless the man wanted to keep him here…

Somehow, that got a rise out of him, and Casey felt his energy gathering. Covering his pained whine with a grunt, he once again forced himself to his knees, using his still-bound elbows to raise his chest. It was taking every ounce of strength that he had, but he refused to fall down.

Above him, he heard the man maniacally laughing, eyes wild as he glanced down. But Casey wasn’t going to let it break him, and he continued to lift his heavy chest, doing everything he could to not collapse once again.

* * *

They pulled up outside the burnt-out building, lights and sirens off. On the short drive over, they’d been able to confirm that this was where Troy had taken Casey, and sure enough, his car was faintly visible. Severide felt sick looking at it, knowing that Casey had been dragged from it only hours earlier.

The only positive of Casey being in this building was that Kelly was now required to assist, so he’d be able to enter the building in search of Casey. He knew exactly where he’d be, and he knew the safest way to get down then.

They were silent as they moved, knowing that alerting Troy to their presence could cost Casey his life. But they were all determined, and it only took a minute for them to arrive at a door, Kelly gesturing that it led to the basement. Where Casey was.

A few armed members of PD converged in front of it, raising their firearms so they were ready. Kelly held his breath, and then they were through.

“Chicago PD! Get down on the ground!”

Harsh police lights flooded the room, and even though Kelly had prepared for the utter worst, the sight still took his breath away. Casey was standing.

_Casey was standing._

He was clearly injured, and Kelly could see from his body language that he was struggling. But the blonde was _standing,_ and he was _alive._

He cried out in relief, briefly glancing to where Troy Muarry was putting his hands up, being cornered by Voight before he was racing over to his friend. Casey still didn’t seem to be entirely aware of what was happening, but as he saw Kelly, a smile washed over his face.

And then he collapsed.

Kelly didn’t let him hit the ground, though, moving forwards and wrapping his arms around his blonde friend, holding him against his chest. Casey groaned against him, sluggishly moving in his grasp, “Hey, Case. S’okay, bud. We got you. We got you.”

Casey moaned again, before weakly struggling against Kelly’s grasp, trying to push himself up. He clearly didn’t have the strength to do it by himself, so Kelly was gentle as he assisted, holding Casey’s elbows and looking at his friend, “Hey, Matt. You with me, bud? You with me?”

The blonde’s blue eyes were half lidded, but Kelly could see him trying. So, he was patient as he asked again, gently worried Casey’s arm, “Buddy, I’d feel a lot better if you gave me a response… you’re safe now… you’re safe.”

Slowly, the blonde nodded, letting out a light groan, “Yea..h…. Sev. Here.”

Kelly smiled, taking some more of Casey’s weight as the blonde’s adrenaline started fading and his binds were untied, “We’ve got you, now… you’re okay. Thank fuck you’re okay…”

It looked as though the blonde was going to try to respond again, because a confused expression washed over his face. But Voight chose that exact moment to approach, having apprehended Troy. The police sergeant looked more relieved than Severide had ever seen him, and the man gave Casey a firm nod as the blonde frowned, “Captain Casey. How are you?”

Casey glanced up at him, confusion growing before he paled rapidly. Severide saw it coming but didn’t have time to do anything other than brace Casey against him as he lurched forwards, violently throwing up down Voight’s front.

The police sergeant’s eyebrows shot up, before a smirk covered his face, “Fair enough. Kelly, get him to Med… we’ll be by later. But I somehow don’t think we need a lot from him… Casey. Feel better.”

The blonde’s dull eyes followed Voight for a second, before he nodded, sagging tiredly against Kelly, “Mmmph… than’sss…”

Voight nodded, moving away, and Kelly quickly wrapped his arm around his friend tighter, “C’mon, Case… bet you’ve got one hell of a concussion. Probably be a night at Med…”

Casey groaned against him, but there was a smirk on his lips. Kelly squeezed his arm reassuringly, starting to direct them to the door, "S’okay, bud. I’ll stay with you, it’ll be a sleepover…”

And Casey couldn’t argue with that.


	2. We Got Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter Two :) I hope that you enjoy xx

Severide chocked down another mouthful of burnt coffee, rubbing a hand over his weary face. The majority of Chicago was only just waking up, ready to face a new day, but he was exhausted. He’d been up most of the night looking for Casey after all, and now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was exhausted. He felt as though he could sleep for a week, but he wasn’t done yet.

Casey had been admitted as soon as he’d arrived at Med, one of the night shift doctors taking him through. They hadn’t seemed to be particularly worried, but Casey had still been bleeding, and his history of head injuries had expediated his treatment. The last thing Severide had seen as he’d been wheeled through was a reassuring smile on Casey’s face, the blonde clearly exhausted but still offering him that tiny shred of comfort.

He forced back the final sip of the stale coffee, grimacing as he looked into the bottom of the Styrofoam cup. He rolled his eyes at the dregs of coffee, wondering why on earth hospital coffee was so bad. It wasn’t _that_ hard to make a decent cup, and it seemed almost cruel that those already suffering were then put through this liquid torture.

“Family of Matt Casey?”

He was drawn from his reverie by the young doctor’s voice, and he glanced up. The man that had treated Matt all those hours ago was now standing in the doorway, glancing around as he tried to locate a family member.

“Uh, sorry. Yeah, that’s me.” Kelly responded, pushing himself up off his seat and moving towards the doctor.

The doctor smiled at him, in a way that Kelly recognised from his own training, “Matt’s going to be utterly fine. He’s pretty banged up – twenty-nine stitches in total, some nasty bruising, and a moderate concussion – but other than some soreness he’ll be fine. We’re going to keep him overnight because of his history, and Matt’s neurologist will offer him a follow up appointment, but he’ll be fine. He’s resting now, but you can go and see him.”

Severide took a moment to process the doctor’s words, before he was nodding, following the man through the doors that lead to the rest of the hospital.

* * *

Matt groaned at the soft voice above him, wanting nothing more than to ignore the hand rubbing his shoulder. His head was pounding, and his stomach was rolling and pulsating uncomfortably. And that wasn’t to mention the multiple parts of his body that felt like they’d been hit by a car, bruised and tender.

“Matt. Captain Casey. I’m sorry, I just need you to wake up. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

The nurse’s voice worked, because Matt’s compulsive need to not be a burden kicked into overdrive, and he forced his eyes open, “Hm. Yeah, sorry…”

The nurse just smiled, eyes sparkling at the firefighter, “It’s not a problem, Matt. I’m just going to take your blood pressure and ask you a few questions. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Matt took a moment to respond, interrupted by his own yawn, “Uh, oh. Matt Casey. Thirty-two. I’m a firefighter, work at firehouse fifty-one. My best friend is Kelly Severide, I’m divorced. Hm. It’s Tuesday, probably actually morning by now.”

The nurse chuckled, nodding, “Okay, definitely nothing affecting your memory, Matt. Just let me take your blood pressure…”

Matt responded by propping himself up, shrugging the blanket off so he could get to his upper arm. She assisted him with sitting up, before pressing the button to pump it up.

But Matt was already distracted by the sight of his best friend, for the first time noticing that Kelly had been sitting in the corner of his room. The grey-haired Lieutenant looked as exhausted as he felt, but the man was smiling.

Mouth dropping open in surprise, Casey couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “Kelly?”

Severide’s grin grew wider, becoming mocking as he looked his friend over, “Best friend, Kelly Severide?”

Casey gaped in surprise for a moment longer, before narrowing his eyes, appreciating his friend’s efforts but not wanting to admit defeat so easily, “Well, it was either that or identify my ex-wife, sooo….”

Standing up, Kelly moved towards Casey’s bed, dropping himself to the edge of the mattress. He let out a teasing scoff, doing his best to cover his relief that his friend was okay, “Ah, still. That makes me better than Dawson… that’s quite the compliment, bud.”

Rolling his eyes, Casey poked his tongue out, making a noise in his throat as he teased his friend. Severide was quick to return the expression, neither man paying attention to the nurse still in the room.

“That’s looking good, Matt. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

She left without another word, causing Severide to bite his lip. He shook his head at Casey, apologetic expression flashing across his face, “Sorry, man. Think I just undid all your work.”

Matt furrowed his brow, putting his head to the side questioningly, “Huh?”

Severide just rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his friend, “Oh, come on, man. You can’t be that clueless. She was flirting with you.”

Casey frowned, before shaking his head, “Nah, think you just see sex everywhere, Kel. She was rubbing my back as I threw up, earlier… that’s hardly attractive.”

“I swear, man. She was into you… puke or not. Maybe I went a bit hard on the ex-wife thing… so sorry for that.”

Casey didn’t answer, just shrugging a single shoulder. And while Kelly was well aware that it wasn’t the right time to push it, he couldn’t help but continue, “You know that you’re a great catch, Case. You should get back out there.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and Severide worried that he had gone too far. But then Casey, true to form, cleared his throat, motioning to the chair that Kelly had been sitting in, “How long were you there before I woke up?”

“Hm… however long it takes to choke down a hospital coffee. Why?”

Casey smiled, dropping the back of his head against the pillow, “So, you were just watching me sleep?”

“Waiting for you to wake up. I was watching Netflix.” Kelly replied, holding up his phone and smirking, “Just to be clear, you’re asking because you’re trying to get out of the Dawson conversation, right?”

Matt poked his tongue out again, before shrugging a shoulder lightly, “It might be.”

Kelly continued, fixing Casey with a deadpan expression, “And the Dawson conversation… that’s to defer the one about you _being held hostage_ , right?”

This time, Casey remained serious, sighing tiredly, “That it would.”

For a brief moment, Severide didn’t know how to react. Casey was as emotionally constipated as he was, but he knew that he’d been scared. Hell, he’d been terrified, and that wasn’t changing.

“You know that you can talk to me, bud. Any time.”

Matt glanced up at his words, piercing blue eyes assessing his face. But he knew that Severide was being genuine, and he flashed him a grateful smile, “How about later? When my head isn’t pounding.”

Slowly, Kelly nodded, “Yeah. Alright, bud. Can I get you anything? Or you can close your eyes for a bit, you must be exhausted.”

“Mmm… yeah, might do that. But you look as crap as me… if I inch over, can curl up next to me? Or is that weird.”

In honesty, Severide didn’t care if it was, his own fatigue now catching up to him that Casey was alright, “Nah. Not trying to impress anyone… alright, budge over, bud. Let me get comfortable.”

Casey did, before tossing one of his pillows at Severide. Kelly kicked his shoes off, before making sure that Matt had enough room. He drew his knees to his chest, before trying to get comfortable against the mattress, “Alright, bud. Get some rest… I’ll be here when you wake up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Maybe stick to 1000 words a day, so you don't die.  
> Also me: Make EVERY DAY multichapter!


End file.
